On my first day of school
Saul Williams is in my ear:
And when my fears arise I blow them out
Blow them out
Get it out
Blow it out
He’s whispering, shouting, provoking
Daring me to only bob my head
On this crowded BART train
My morning commute
Once again a moment of reflection
I raise both arms to the bar
As I choose to stand in the aisle
Rather than fight for a seat
My hands above my head
Allowing my body to sway
With the movement of the car
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Beat
Saul is encouraging me.
His voice has become a surrogate
of friends and lovers not by my side.
Sex, I study sex.
I am a confirmed, outed, sex enthusiast.
It’s a human right to be sexually fulfilled,
to have a sexuality not defined
by abuse or oppression.
And I’m on this train
speeding toward the City
sliding beneath the Bay
to earn a Masters in Human Sexuality
Break the cycle, break the chain
break the hurt and break the pain
I study sexuality and now
Sensuality is everywhere
Always a fire lapping at the edges
Of my scholar’s mind
Will that be a problem, I wonder
Am I supposed to differentiate the two?
Because…
I don’t want to.
Hearts in two-step beat
Break
Dance work whip pray
Break
Neck jump back kiss
Break
Ashes, dust, kill, crush
Break
And if I don’t want to, I know I’m not going to.
I feel one side of my mouth start to curl
I’m looking down at my feet
The way my satchel bumps against my hip
Feels good to me
The lengthening of my back,
the strain in my upper arm muscles
I’m thinking about Kwan’s riding crop
He bought it just for me…
Deep breath, keeping my balance
in conjunction with the train
it’s all sensual to me.
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Beats
Saul feels me
Both sides of my mouth are lifting
Away from the usual thoughtful pout
Of introspective repose…
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Beats
Back in Oakland
A woman asking for dollars
at the top of the stairs
leading down into the station
had said, “There’s a girl
with a lot on her mind,”
as I passed her by.
It’s true: method, theory, sex…
Airial is planning something.
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Beatings
I feel someone staring at me
I lift my eyes only
Still with the slight grin on my lips
I don’t want to lose my train of thought
My ideas are too precious and precocious
To be derailed by the attention of a stranger
Dark brown eyes, slightly bloodshot
I feel I am being appraised
Too late, I beat you to it
I was just more subtle
Mid-40’s, taller than me
business suit that needs pressing
thick black hair, graying goatee
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Beasts
It’s shocking to me
That people who came of age
In the 1980’s
Are coming into power
But they’re still bemoaning the Boomers
A whole generation with
A massive younger sibling compleX
I shake my head at that.
By the horns and get it out
Cough it up and spit it out
Get it out
The polite thing for me to do
is pretend I don’t notice
his eyes resting on me
be another object on the train
Sorry, but I don’t feign ignorance well
He’s not that slick
And I have no poker face
My eyebrows raise…
A challenge, a question, a recognition
he looks away.
Should I change the way I’m standing?
Am I making him uncomfortable?
Social conditioning threatens to take hold of me.
Nope, I’m keeping my body relaxed
I like swaying with the train.
Break the cycle, break the chain
break the whip and break the pain
Besides it’s my thoughts that are provocative,
I’m studying sex for you too,
Hyper-masculinized, over-sexualized
Black guy who I don’t know.
We’re so in this together,
Or at least that is what Saul
Continues to assure me.
All my doubts and all my fears
break the spell that keeps me here
Through the tunnel
Emerging in Embarcadero
I swarm with the other commuters
I go to school Downtown
In a high-rise office building
A suite dedicated to sexuality research
My new nest for challenging the norm,
Hatching revolution.
Let it out, blow it out, spit it out
Get it out
Break